


Sirius Black's Body

by Minnow_53



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:41:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26231329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minnow_53/pseuds/Minnow_53
Summary: Sirius is having problems with lust.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 83





	Sirius Black's Body

**Author's Note:**

> First published on LiveJournal 11/1/05. This fic is set directly after the events in Snape's Worst Memory.

It was a nice body, actually; very nice indeed. It was lean where it should be lean, muscled where it should be muscled, and moved extremely gracefully, without any apparent effort on its owner’s part.

But it was also sometimes a bloody embarrassment. 

Sirius first noticed his body’s anarchic tendencies the evening before the Transfiguration OWL. ‘Fun’ with Snivellus had happened that afternoon. McGonagall had also happened, with the result that James and Sirius had detentions and Remus had been told off for not stopping them. McGonagall’s exact words were, ‘If you can’t keep your friends in order, perhaps you had better find some more obedient ones.’ A bit unfair, when OWLs weren’t over yet, and Sirius had the grace to feel rather guilty. Remus had disappeared very soon after McGonagall swept away, and Sirius wanted to find him and apologise.

Remus wasn’t in the dorm, or the common room, so logic dictated that he’d be in the library. Well, it made a lot of sense if he was still revising for that last exam. Sirius went up there in search of him, and found his friend sitting rather disconsolately at a table, gazing out of the window, having not even bothered to open his textbook. Sirius felt very bad indeed that Remus was obviously so freaked out and it was partly his fault. Though more James’s, all the same.

He sat down on the chair next to Remus. ‘Hi. You doing Transfiguration, then?’ he asked.

Remus shrugged. ‘Can’t be bothered,’ he muttered.

It was, Sirius thought, his voice that did it. Remus’s voice was sweet and rather hoarse, like warm honey mixed with ground glass. And it had a very unexpected effect on Sirius, who suddenly realised he was incredibly turned on, and there wasn’t a girl in sight.

Of course, a voice could transcend gender, Sirius decided. True, Remus didn’t sound remotely like a girl, but still, it wasn’t as if it was Remus as such who was having that effect on him. Though when he looked at Remus, at his tawny hair and his rather, at that moment, sullen expression, parts of Sirius’s body twitched hopefully.

‘Oh, shit,’ he mumbled, and Remus, his annoyance forgotten, was suddenly all warm concern. He turned his golden (very light brown, actually) gaze directly on Sirius. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yeah, fine. Got a bit, a bit of cramp in my leg. Sudden twinge. You know.’

‘Poor Padfoot! That’s really painful. D’you want me to massage it for you?’

‘N-n-no thanks. Sorry, Moony, gotta go.’ Sirius turned and fled.

At dinner, Sirius sat next to James and Peter, instead of in his usual place next to Remus. Remus looked bewildered, even a bit hurt, but Sirius ignored him: though Sirius’s body showed a lot of interest in Remus’s expression, and especially the way he clenched his long fingers, and rested his head on his hand

There was pie for dinner, and chips, and syrup sponge pudding, but Sirius wanted to concentrate fiercely on girls. Lily Evans, for one. Sure, James fancied her, but that was precisely because she was hot. Sirius gazed long and hard at her: well, not hard, because however much he imagined a naked Lily spread in front of him, her legs open invitingly, his body shrugged and gave off ‘so what?’ messages.

That was probably because of James, Sirius rationalised. Even his body felt disloyal about imagining James’s crush in a very compromising position.

He looked across at the Ravenclaw table, where Sally O’Grady, one of the sexiest girls at Hogwarts, was busy purring across the table at her latest conquest. Sirius put himself in said conquest’s place. He imagined that after dinner he and Sally would be going to the Ravenclaw common room and snogging each other silly. His body seemed quite to like the thought for a moment, and he imagined that there might be some slight reaction, but…no, not really.

While Sirius was checking out Sally, James said something about Quidditch which made Remus and Peter laugh. Remus's laugh was like his voice, soft and gentle but with a slightly lunatic edge, because Moony could be a bit nuts sometimes. And it had an immediate effect on Sirius, who was instantly almost slavering with lust, especially when he looked over at Moony who was smiling broadly, his eyes crinkled up with amusement, his face slightly flushed. 

Oh, fuck. Not only turned on, but on the verge of completely losing it in the middle of dinner.

Sirius decided that it must be some displacement activity on the part of his hormones. Perhaps a practical demonstration would help. Sirius’s eyes lighted on Mary Ryan, who had gone out with him briefly in Fourth Year, when they were just kids and didn’t really do kissing and stuff. Well, Sirius didn’t. Not with someone who wasn’t a pureblood. But he wasn’t going to worry about that now – he just wanted to show his body who was boss. _He_ was boss, damn it. He was boss, and he was straight, and his body could like it or lump it.

Later that evening, outside the greenhouses, Sirius’s lips were sore with kissing, and his body sore with friction, and all he could think about was that he had an important exam the next day, and even though he was brilliant at Transfiguration, he still wanted to get some sleep beforehand. His sodding body already seemed to have gone to sleep.

Of course, predictably, it woke up when he tiptoed into the dorm. Remus’s curtains were open, and he was lying asleep on his back, looking, Sirius’s treacherous mind whispered, like an angel. Oh, God, not his mind too, Sirius groaned, before said mind started to muse that Remus really did have a beautiful face. And it also mused that the only thing on earth Sirius wanted to do was to crawl into bed with Remus and ravish him the way he had been totally unable to ravish Mary Ryan earlier that evening.

Well, not totally unable. But it wouldn’t have been a great deal for either of them.

He wondered whether it was just Remus, or whether it was boys in general. He looked rather hopelessly round at Peter, who was sleeping on his stomach. Now, if he fancied boys, that would surely set him off, but no. Not a twinge. Mind you, he was talking Peter here, and Peter was a bit…plain. Fat. Pasty.

Now, how about his best friend, James? Sirius felt some trepidation about this. He really, really didn’t want to fancy James.

Again, no: the Potter body stretched out on its side beneath a single sheet – it was a hot night – did nothing for Sirius either. A bit more than Peter, perhaps, if he were being quantitative, and rather less than Mary, but nothing like, not a patch on Remus. Sirius’s body most emphatically wanted Remus Lupin: or that was the only conclusion he could come to late at night with an OWL the following morning.

Fate was not on his side – or it was, depending on how you looked at it – because he had hardly fallen asleep when he was awoken by someone muttering loudly in their sleep, and of course it would be bloody Remus, who was given to nightmares around the time of the full moon.

‘No,’ Sirius whimpered into his pillow. ‘Shut up, Remus. Have a pleasant dream. Please.’

But Remus murmured more wildly, tossing from side to side, his hair dishevelled, his face contorted with distress.

Muttering a few choice swearwords, Sirius swung his legs out of his bed, then the rest of him, then slid into Remus’s bed, which was, conveniently, or inconveniently, the bed next to his. Not quite able to think coherently, he nevertheless found Remus's wand under his pillow and cast a spell to make the curtains close.

He then shook Remus, perhaps a bit more violently than necessary, until Remus was awake and looking at him in confusion. ‘Padfoot? What is it?’

‘You, idiot. You had a nightmare.’

‘Oh. Why’re you in my bed?’

‘Came to wake you up.’ And, Sirius added silently, to wake my effing body up, just in case it had forgotten that Remus was in the same room.

‘Exam tomorrow. Go back to sleep.’ Remus curled himself trustingly against Sirius, and closed his eyes again. Sirius put out a tentative hand and stroked Remus’s hair, edging himself a tiny bit closer so he could perhaps just rub himself a bit against Remus’s leg, ease the pressure a little.

Remus sat up abruptly. ‘Sirius, what the hell – ’

Sirius groaned, and grabbed Remus’s face in his hands and kissed him on the lips, with all the heat and passion that had been sadly lacking in his earlier encounter with Mary. Remus’s lips against his were surprisingly soft, but a little bit rough as well, and though he resisted for a moment, he soon gave in and opened his mouth under Sirius’s, and as their tongues met, Sirius cried out in surprise and pleasure. Luckily, he had taken the precaution of putting a silencing spell on the bed.

Sirius noticed, through his euphoria, that Remus’s body also seemed to like boys. Well, to be fair, it seemed to like Sirius. Which was reasonable, considering how Sirius’s body had been acting all evening.

They spent what was left of the night discovering just how much their bodies did like each other, how attuned they were, and how good they felt when they were allowed to indulge their desire; in the end, both their bodies were thoroughly sated, not to say placated, and even temporarily lulled. It was an excellent night from one point of view, but a disastrous one from another, because by morning both of them had forgotten almost everything they'd ever learned about Transfiguration, even Sirius who thought he knew it all: though he could, if asked, have transformed himself into a big black dog. Unfortunately, nobody did ask.

Remus fared a bit better, because he had revised more, but really he put in a very substandard performance. Astonishingly, he didn’t seem too bothered: when he had written down all he could remember, he laid his quill on the desk and gazed into the distance with a faint smile. The sort of faint smile that was matched by Sirius Black, three rows in front, who had barely managed to write more than his name.

All the above explains why neither Sirius Black nor Remus Lupin did even a quarter as well as expected in their Transfiguration OWLs. In fact, they both failed miserably. McGonagall was livid with them, of course, and they had to retake the exam in autumn: and then, they got brilliant marks, but that’s another story.

**End**


End file.
